Since he had only just woken up, Ivan was not holding a sword.
It was hardly an important issue. Ivan twisted his body to evade the blade lunging at him, then casually swung his fist.
Crack! With a gruesome sound, one of the assassins, struck squarely by his fist, went limp.
Ivan transitioned between movements as naturally as flowing water and brought his elbow down, crushing the skull of an assassin who had been thrusting a dagger upward from below.
Without even a moment to catch his breath, a razor-sharp blade came rushing toward his eyes.
Ivan kicked off the ground and leaped into the air, then lashed out with his leg like a whip. The assassins struck by it spat out gushes of blood and slammed into the wall.
Once again, the assassins’ blades cut through empty air, while every swing of Ivan’s limbs invariably left casualties behind.
It was around then that Ivan began to sense something strange.
‘······?’
Even as their comrades died right before their eyes, the assassins showed no sign of agitation...
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